13 Days of Halloween
by Beertree
Summary: Everybody loves Halloween including the Transformers. Here are 13 stories based upon a fic challenge at the LJ community Transficsation
1. Black Cat

"Oh, c'mon, Blue. It's time to get back."

"No."

"I'm tired," the red mech whined.

"No, I said."

Sideswipe's comm. activated. "Where are you two?" Prowl asked.

"Prowl, we're exactly where we were two hours ago. Tell Blue to just come on. He won't move."

There was a brief pause before Prowl answered. "Why won't he move?"

"Why don't you come here and see. I'm about ready to leave him here."

"…"

Five minutes passed with more whining from Sideswipe and more sullen silence from Bluestreak. If Sideswipe hadn't been so mad at the gunner he might've been worried at his silence.

Then Prowl appeared in the alley entrance and took in the sight of Sideswipe in 'Bot mode leaning over Bluestreak in Alt mode. Sideswipe looked up at the sound of Prowl's footsteps. His relief was obvious.

"Prowl, please do something. I can't deal with this anymore." He stomped off.

Prowl looked at Bluestreak. "What's the problem?"

"I'm sorry, Prowl. Really I am. I didn't want to get Sides upset or anything but…well…you see while we were watching for 'Cons like you told us to do…um, a cat crawled up into my wheel well, and I'm afraid to move and it's asleep and it's purring…"

Prowl covered his mouth with his hand as he hid his smile. "Well, I can understand your reluctance to move then but we do have to get back to the Ark."

"But, Prowl…"

Prowl held up his hand to stop the young mech before he could get going again. Without another word the tactician leaned over and pounded on Bluestreak's hood. A small black cat leaped out from inside Bluestreak's fender and disappeared into the darkness.

"Now, get back to the Ark."


	2. Costumes

Jazz entered the conference room and took a look around. He grinned when he realized he wasn't late for once. The only mechs present for the staff meeting were Wheeljack, Ironhide and Optimus Prime. Optimus was never late and since he was never without Ironhide by his side, it seemed, Ironhide was there. Why Wheeljack was there on time was a mystery.

In the grand scheme of things, though, it was unimportant to Jazz. What was important was his Halloween party.

"So," he said without preamble. "Who's coming to my costume party?"

Optimus winced. "Sorry, Jazz. I can't come. I don't have a costume."

Ironhide nodded in agreement. "Sorry, Jazz, same here. Ah just can't seem ta come up with a costume."

Wheeljack's "ears" flashed bright blue as he looked from Optimus to Ironhide then back at Jazz. He knew a good excuse when he heard one. "Nope, can't make it, sorry. I had a costume but I, uh, blew it up."

Jazz gave Wheeljack a long, disbelieving look, which lasted all of a microsecond before he smiled again. Far from being discouraged by this response, he said, "Would ya'll come to the party if ya had costumes?"

Since the party was that evening, all three mechs figured that this was safe. How could Jazz come up with three costumes in eight hours? It was impossible.

"Sure, Jazz," Wheeljack said. "I'll come if you get me a costume."

Optimus and Ironhide nodded in agreement.

Jazz grinned broadly. "Great, I'll see ya there."

The day passed quickly and busily for the three mech. They hardly gave a thought to Jazz's proposal and were definitely not planning on attending the party.

When no costumes were forthcoming by the end of the day shift, a mere two hours before the party, they all breathed a sigh of relief and started to make plans for a quiet evening.

One hour before the party, Wheeljack returned to his quarters cradling a can of mid-grade and a bunch of engineering datapads. He paused as he noticed the large box on his berth. i Aw, no, /i was his only thought approaching it carefully as if he was afraid it might explode. Without opening it, he picked up the box and dashed into the corridor where he nearly collided with Ironhide and Optimus who were holding identical boxes.

"Not you too?" he asked. "Have you looked?"

Ironhide shook his head sadly.

Optimus sighed deeply. "No," he said slowly.

"Guess we're going," Ironhide drawled unhappily.

"Yep," Wheeljack said.

"We promised," Optimus added.

"Yep," Wheeljack agreed.

They all looked at each other.

"You first," they all said together.

Wheeljack's ears flashed a pale blue. "Let's all change in our quarters and then meet back here. If they're really bad, at least we have strength in numbers."

"You think they're going to be that bad?" Optimus asked obviously hoping for a negative answer.

Ironhide just looked at him. "What do you think?"

Optimus hung his head.

Ten minutes later they gathered in the corridor again.

"It's all our fault, you know," Wheeljack moaned.

"Nothing to be done now. We did agree to the terms," Optimus reminded them.

"Right, then. To the party," Ironhide said half-heartedly.

When they arrived at the rec room, they all paused outside the door. They could hear music and laughter. It did sound like fun. And there'd be hi-grade. Maybe even some of Sideswipe's home brew, anything to take the sting away.

The door slid open and they stepped in. Heads turned and optics and eyes stared. There was stunned silence for a nanosecond. Just time enough for Wheeljack to adjust his blonde wig.

Then Jazz called out, "Carly, Spike, Sparkplug, you made it."

Optimus sighed and adjusted his yellow construction helmet and then did the same to Ironhide's. At least they got to dress as males, he thought as he glanced at Wheeljack's wig and leg warmers.


	3. Crescent Moon

Tracks studied the room with a serious optic.

"It needs something, I believe," he said without looking at his partner-in-decorating.

Inferno snorted. "We have black cats, pumpkins, witches, spider webs, we even have a fog machine, what else could we possibly need?"

Tracks ignored the sarcasm. "I don't know," he said thoughtfully.

Inferno rolled his optics. i Any other job, Jazz, with any other partner/i he thought. "Tracks, we even have a herd of ghosts. There isn't room for anything else."

Tracks turned around taking in the entire room. Yes, something was missing. He spotted the empty space in the far corner of the room. "There. We need something there." He pointed at the corner and gave Inferno a triumphant grin.

"Oh, fer…" Inferno muttered. "What do you propose we put there?"

Tracks shook his head. "No idea…"

"Hey, guys, what's up?"

Inferno and Tracks turned and looked at the newcomer.

Jazz grinned and pounded Inferno and Tracks on the back. "Great job, guys, just great. Couldn't a done better myself. I especially like that crescent moon in the corner," he said with a wink of an optic behind his visor.

The crescent moon glared down at the trio. "I swear to Primus, when I get down I'm going to murder you all," Cosmos, his green paint completely covered in black and white, yelled at them. He would've shaken a fist too but he was firmly glued to the ceiling.


	4. Orange

Jazz and Blaster crouched down behind the wall and watched the activity around the small building. Soundwave's crew of cassettes was standing guard while the tape player seemed to be frozen solid.

Jazz knew that he was listening. He also knew that the 'Con was listening for them, the 'Con just didn't know exactly where they were. In any case, that was about to change. He glanced at Blaster and caught his optic. Blaster nodded. i Ready, /i his expression said.

Without another signal, both 'Bots leaped to their feet, sound systems blasting at full volume and ran towards the startled tapes and their player.

And they were surprised. None of them had expected a head on assault. Momentarily startled, they were unable to react fast enough and couldn't stop the Autobots. Jazz sped past Rumble and Frenzy and, with a flick of his wrist, threw a small grenade which rolled right up to Soundwave's feet.

Then they were gone, hidden behind another wall.

The grenade detonated with a rather comforting whump. Debris from the building rained down on their heads followed by a solid thump of something landing at their feet.

Jazz glanced down. He cocked his head curiously and then looked at Blaster. Blaster looked down and grinned. He picked up the small blue and white tape player.

He turned it over in his hands and then gave it a shake. With a shrug, he handed it to Jazz. Jazz looked thoughtful then raised a finger as if he had an idea. Handing the tape player back to Blaster, he unspaced two small cans of paint and a pair of paintbrushes. Blaster gave Jazz an amused look. Jazz shrugged and grinned.

Jazz opened the cans and carefully applied a coat of orange paint to the player. Blaster took over and finished the job with a flourish, spraying black paint everywhere.

Jazz grabbed the brush and painted a mustache under Blaster's nose. Blaster retrieved the brush and gave Jazz glasses. When they were done, Jazz picked up the cassette player and crept back to where the cassettes were laying, still unconscious. He placed it carefully on the remains of a wall so that the tapes would see it right away when they woke up.

Seconds later, the saboteur and the boombox were gone, their mission accomplished with style.


	5. Pumpkins

"Why am I out here on my evening off? Why do I have a dirty pumpkin on my seat?" the red Lamborghini moaned over his commlink as he crept along a muddy dirt track out in the middle of nowhere.

"Because you stole it and Prowl is making you return it," came the slightly annoyed answer from his companion, a silver and black old style Datsun. "I told you not to take it but you said it would never be missed. You said, 'this farmer guy has a huge field of these orange things, why would he miss one?' Because you stole the biggest pumpkin in the entire field. You stole the farmer's prize giant pumpkin that he was going to enter in the county fair and maybe win a ton of money with. Of course he missed it."

The Datsun sighed dramatically because he was rather upset that he had been forced to accompany Sideswipe. Though he didn't complain about it like Sideswipe, Bluestreak wasn't very happy to be out there.

"And because you left giant Autobot footprints all over the field so the farmer knew that an Autobot had taken it," he continued but stopping short of saying, 'How stupid can you be,' because no matter how much Sideswipe liked him, saying that would get his head bashed in.

Sideswipe sighed and answered as if he was repeating a school lesson to a child who just wasn't catching on, "I had to take the biggest one. These little ones would've been way to hard for me to carve."

Bluestreak didn't bother to answer and silently pulled to a stop turning his headlights toward the field. "We're here," he said with considerable relief.

Sideswipe hit his brakes and sprayed the Datsun with mud when his tires skidded in the mud. Bluestreak took it silently. Mud washed off, a trip to see Ratchet was forever.

Meanwhile, a small figure crouched behind a large pile of hay bales at the edge of the field. He opened his commlink. "Hey, you were right. Those two Autobums just pulled up. I bet they're going to get more of these orange things for something really secret and I'm going to figure out what it is…Shaddup, I am too smart enough…" He shut off his comm in disgust. "Jerks."

Sideswipe opened his door and partially transformed, raising his roof so Bluestreak could get the giant pumpkin out of his driver's compartment. When it was out, he finished transforming and picked up the squash. He stared at the muddy field littered with tiny orange pumpkins. He growled lowly. Prowl had made it very clear that no pumpkins would die on this mission but Sideswipe couldn't see how he could get the pumpkin back to it's place without stomping a few vegetables into mush.

"Just walk in the spaces between the vines," Bluestreak offered rather unhelpfully.

"Slaggit," Sideswipe hissed and marched across the field pumpkin in his arms.

He reached the spot where the giant squash had rested all summer and set it down.

The figure watching them snorted loudly and Sideswipe whirled around and unspaced his gun while turning his lights on the hay bales.

"It's Rumble," Bluestreak said in surprise and pulled his own gun out.

"What a bunch of morons," Rumble snickered. "Yer puttin' that thing back?" he giggled in amazement, apparently unconcerned with his own safety.

Sideswipe frowned. "Who're you calling a moron, moron?"

"Ooo, witty, Snotswipe," Rumble replied.

Sideswipe's face darkened and Bluestreak took a step back. With two steps, the red mech was looming over the small blue cassetticon.

It was at this point that Rumble wondered if he'd said too much but he didn't have much time to ponder that because Sideswipe reached down and grabbed the small mech by the head and legs, lifting him easily. Stomping back to the large pumpkin, Sideswipe raised Rumble over his head.

Bluestreak realized what Sideswipe intended and shouted, "No, don't…"

Sideswipe ignored him and harpooned Rumble head first into the pumpkin.

Bluestreak groaned but couldn't hide his grin. "You are so dead," he said and ran for the road.

Sideswipe turned to follow but paused and turned back, unspacing black marker. He quickly sketched a smiley face on the pumpkin right beneath Rumble's shoulders. With one last look at his handiwork, he followed Bluestreak to the road.


	6. Graveyard

i This one is a little different. Definitely in a more serious vein. /i 

The drive back to the Ark for Ratchet, First Aid and Wheeljack had been quiet. All three were tired and little was said and First Aid said nothing

What had begun as a three-hour leave from the Ark had tripled when they'd witnessed an accident on the Interstate. In fact, they'd been right behind it.

They'd immediately stopped to help and ended up being the very first responders, freeing trapped motorists, giving medical treatment. Finally transporting the more seriously injured to the hospital. There they'd waited to hear the conditions of their passengers and had given their eyewitness accounts for the police reports.

It had been bad news for First Aid. He'd worked hard to stabilize and transport a seriously injured man only to learn that he'd died during surgery.

They were still several miles from the Ark, traveling along the two lane road that lead home when First Aid suddenly stopped. He sat quietly for a moment at the side of the road and then transformed. He stood staring into the woods without moving. Ratchet and Wheeljack stopped, transformed and walked back to join the young medic.

"You okay, Aid?" Ratchet asked.

First Aid didn't answer for a minute. He finally looked at the two mechs, his expression unreadable behind the mask and visor. His body language, though, made his emotions very obvious.

"Ya did your best, Aid," Wheeljack said touching First Aid's shoulder, though he knew it wasn't much comfort.

"Unfortunately, it wasn't enough," First Aid said quietly. Before Ratchet or Wheeljack could say more, First Aid stepped off the road and made his way carefully through the woods.

His two companions followed, puzzled. After a few minutes, First Aid stopped, looking around.

"I've noticed this place before," he said. "But I've never thought much about it." He squatted down and touched a very worn, slightly askew piece of white stone. "It's very old, isn't it? By human standards, I mean."

Ratchet halted next to the kneeling medic and looked around. It was an old cemetery, probably abandoned a hundred years ago. Who'd used it was unknown. "Yes, it's old and long forgotten."

"Humans are too fragile," First Aid said to the trees, the gravestone, to nobody in particular.

Both mechs nodded in agreement and squatted down next to their young companion and silently mourned with him.


	7. Fog and Trick

A/N: This one started out as Fog but quickly evolved into Trick so I'm submitting it as both Fog and Trick. There will actually be a single story for Trick but probably not for a while.

Smokescreen threw down his cards. "I'm out," he groused, avoiding the amused expressions on his competitors' faceplates. He leaned back in his chair and met their optics. "What? I don't always have a winning hand," he said innocently.

Snickers passed around the table and Smokescreen smiled. Now that he was out, he took a moment to glance around the Autobot rec room, optics falling on various mechs. He unconsciously studied them, noting their body language, expressions, what they were drinking.

His optics stopped on Air Raid. The Aerialbot was well into his third high-grade and enjoying himself tremendously, apparently sharing "war" stories with Streetwise and Blades. There was a lot of gesturing and laughing coming from that side of the room.

The hand ended and Smokescreen waved off the next hand, got up and wandered over to the three mechs. He sat down next to them and said, with all innocence, "I heard an interesting story today."

Streetwise glanced at Blades and then back at Smokescreen. He knew Smokescreen well enough to be suspicious of anything the blue and red Datsun thought was interesting. Unfortunately, Air Raid, too new and possibly too overcharged to have honed his suspicions, took the bait.

He leaned forward eagerly. "Really? What'd you hear?"

"Ever hear of Bigfoot?"

Streetwise's optics widened in surprise and he opened his mouth to say something but Blades kicked him in the foot. The coptermech was trying to keep a grin off his faceplate.

"No, I haven't. What's Bigfoot?"

"Some humans call it a missing link. You know, a step in the evolutionary chain of humanity. Other's think it's a hoax. But I hear it's out there just waiting to be caught. It walks on two legs, is big, much bigger than a human, all hairy."

Air Raid's optics brightened at the tale. "It's out there…in the woods?" He looked at Streetwise and Blades. Blades nodded in agreement. Streetwise kept still.

"Nobody's ever found it? Have they seen it?"

Smokescreen nodded. "Yep, there's a film of it, but nobody has seen it since, only hints and clues."

Air Raid nodded thoughtfully. "I bet I could find it."

Smokescreen shook his head. "Nah, too hard. You wouldn't stand a chance."

Air Raid seemed to puff up, the indignity obvious. He pushed himself to his feet. "I'll find him. Today, right now." He turned and stalked away; a flick of his fingers his only farewell.

When Air Raid had disappeared, Streetwise folded his arms across his chest and gave Smokescreen a disapproving stare.

"What?" Smokescreen said, acting innocent. "He'll be fine. And if he has problems, we can just drag him back."

Twelve hours later, Smokescreen and Streetwise were standing in the Ark entrance peering into a thick fog that could only be described as pea soup.

"Well?" Streetwise said.

"All right, we'll go look for him. I didn't make the fog, you know."

"Good," Streetwise said and transformed. He sped out of the Ark and disappeared into the fog.

Smokescreen followed him.

It quickly became obvious that the fog was going to be problem. Smokescreen could only see a small circle of road around him. He couldn't see Streetwise at all.

Suddenly, there was a crash and a shout of disgust and frustration. Smokescreen hit his brakes but found his body sliding slightly on the damp, slick asphalt. Cursing, he pumped his brakes. He felt them grip only to run out of road.

As his tires hit dirt, he transformed, but his feet sank into the mud on the road's edge and he tipped forward. He flung his hands out to catch himself and crashed into a tree that loomed out of the fog.

"I see you've met Mr. Tree," Streetwise said somewhere to his right and then pulled himself into view while clinging to another tree on the steep embankment.

"What in Primus' Name happened?" Smokescreen asked the police car mech.

"To me or to you? I drove off the road because it's so foggy I didn't see the curve. You just tripped in the mud."

"Ha, ha," Smokescreen said sarcastically and tried to stand. Once on his feet, he tried to walk back up to the road. His foot hit a pile of slippery leaves and he struggled to keep his balance. He failed and tipped over backwards and tumbled down the embankment. He hit the bottom with a splash of muddy water and a groan.

"Slaaag," he moaned and slapped his hands down hard in the water.

Streetwise held back a laugh. "You okay?" he called down before easing himself down to assist Smokescreen.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just dented, muddy and full of water."

Streetwise materialized out of the fog and offered him a hand up while bracing himself against a tree. Smokescreen took it and considered pulling Streetwise into the muddy water but just sighed and stood up.

"This is crazy," Smokescreen said. "Air Raid is a big boy. He can take care of himself. I'm going back to the Ark." He started crawling back up the side of the ditch.

Streetwise had to admit that Smokescreen had a point. If they couldn't even follow the road in the fog, there was no way they would be able to find Air Raid.

"Right, right." He followed Smokescreen and was soon standing on the road in the fog.

They transformed and crept back to the Ark at a snail's pace.

The Ark looked extremely inviting when it finally came into view. The front entrance glowed in the fog, seemingly welcoming them home.

Smokescreen transformed and stood in the entrance. "I'm getting a drink," he told Streetwise as soon the other mech had joined him. "Care to join me?"

Streetwise looked at his muddy frame and the puddle collecting at his feet. "Sure, why not."

Their arrival at the lounge was met by a few curious stares but nothing more. Muddy and dripping mechs were a common sight in this weather.

Smokescreen took a quick look around before heading to the energon dispenser and his optics landed on the one mech he didn't expect to see. He nudged Streetwise and pointed.

"Look."

Streetwise looked and then groaned. He grabbed Smokescreen's arm and dragged him over to Air Raid who was sitting warm and dry with Fireflight and Silverbolt.

"What are you doing here?" Smokescreen asked, feeling a little miffed.

"Huh?" Air Raid said looking at the two muddy mechs. "Oh, well, I was going to go look for Bigfoot, but when I took a look at that fog, I thought, no way am I going to find anything in that. So I figured I'd do a bit of research and maybe get a head's up on where Bigfoot…also known as Sasquatch…might be." He gave Smokescreen a long look. "Turns out he doesn't exist. Just a hoax." He glanced over at his team members. They looked back at him and then at Smokescreen.

Smokescreen took a step backwards and ran into Streetwise. Streetwise put a hand on Smokescreen's shoulder to keep him from fleeing.

Air Raid took a sip from his mug. "So," he said with a smirk. "What have you two been up to?"


	8. Darkness

Tracks crouched in the deep shadow of an enormous rock. The shadow was deeper than the black night that surrounded him but it wasn't enough to hide his bright flame decal that seemed to glow and hiding was very important to him at the moment.

During an intense skirmish with a small group of Decepticons, he'd been separated from the rest of his team when he'd hit a patch of rocks that practically tore out his undercarriage. The pain had been incredible and he'd had to transform. Somehow, he'd managed to crawl to his present hiding place.

Unfortunately, it wasn't a great hiding place, nothing but shadows and a wall behind him. He pushed himself as deeply into the shadowly depths of the rock as he could and listened for the sounds of the Decepticons that he knew were pursuing him.

His hands slid through mud and he grasped two handfuls. With the disgust obvious on his faceplate, he smeared his chest with the mud. Once his decal was covered, he huddled low to the ground to wait.

Seconds later, he heard footsteps crunching on the stony ground and then a monotone voice giving orders to others Tracks couldn't see or hear. He shuttered his optics and waited. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Soundwave moved on, his footsteps vanishing into the darkness.

Tracks resisted the urge to relax, holding back his sigh of relief in case Soundwave's sensitive audios picked up the sound and waited for someone to come find him.


	9. Spider Webs

Spike hefted the box he was carrying in his arms before glancing over at Carly, noting that the box she was carrying was smaller. He sighed and looked as put upon as he could manage while wearing a skeleton mask.

Carly just shook her head and ignored him. This was important work, after all. They'd taken it upon themselves to teach the Autobots all about Earth traditions and she took Halloween very seriously.

"So, we've decorated the lounge, the main conference room, the Medbay waiting room, and the command center. What does that leave?" she asked Spike.

"The labs, I think. But Wheeljack said to stay away from his lab. He doesn't want anything flammable in there. That would leave Perceptor's lab."

Carly nodded and turned right towards Perceptor's area instead of left towards Wheeljack's lab.

She peered into the room. At first it appeared empty but when she entered she spied Perceptor gazing raptly at a computer monitor. At least, that's what it looked like. When she finally got close enough to ask him if they could decorate she saw that his optics were shuttered.

She grinned at Spike as she put her box down and decided, after looking around at all the unfinished experiments in the room, that it would be a good idea to get permission from the red and teal Autobot to decorate the room.

She climbed up onto the chair next to him and was ready to call out his name but stopped when a tiny movement caught her eye. Leaning closer she stared at Perceptor's nose and then called down to Spike.

He joined her and she pointed. They stared as a spider skittered down his nose and launched itself into the air, web spinning out behind it. It dropped into the microscope's lap before climbing back up, ready to build another anchor.


	10. Treat

A/N: I'm going to keep plugging away on these until they are all done. After all, Halloween is a state of mind, right?

Trailbreaker paused outside the Medbay and pulled a deep breath of air through his intakes, girding his loins, so to speak, before entering the sanctum of their CMO, Ratchet. He peeked through the door and froze. Ratchet was there, all right but he was soundly recharging on one of the repair berths, one arm thrown over his optics, the other hanging loosely over the side.

Relieved that he wouldn't have to speak to the crotchety mech but also unhappy to see him so tired, Trailbreaker stepped away from the doors and glanced up and down the corridor thoughtfully. His optics fell on Brawn as the minibot tromped down the corridor for reasons known only to him.

Trailbreaker ran after the mech. "Brawn, wait up."

Brawn turned slowly and looked up at the big black mech. "What?" he said gruffly.

"I need a favor. Nothing bad, I promise. I just need you to help carry something."

"Nothing bad? I won't get into trouble for this? Because I really don't want to spend the next three days scrubbing the lounge with a human toothbrush." He made a face that let Trailbreaker know that this was the worst thing he could possible imagine.

Trailbreaker chuckled. "No, it's perfectly safe. Just come with me."

What Trailbreaker didn't mention was that there was going to be a bit of breaking and entering and sneaking around behind a certain pair of twins' back.

For some reason, Brawn didn't protest any of these activities. In fact, once he got into the swing of things, he actually enjoyed himself and the plan was soon completed.

Several hours later, Ratchet unshuttered his optics. He looked up at the medbay ceiling, surprised to find himself on a repair berth. He vaguely remembered lying down for a bit of a rest but his internal chronometer told him he'd been out for hours. He sighed. At least nobody had missed him.

Sitting up, he realized he was trapped. Instead of cursing angrily, he smiled and reached for the first "brick" of his barricade. It would be very pleasant indeed, escaping from this prison. He took a sip of enegon and toasted the miscreants who'd left such a fine treat.


	11. Ghost

A/N: One more to go.

The line of Autobots ground to a halt in a low-lying valley out of sight of everyone except the pesky Seekers. But there weren't any seekers chasing them so it seemed like a safe place to catch their breaths and gather their wits before heading back to the Ark.

Prowl took a quick headcount and paused. "Anybody see Tracks?"

"He was right behind me," Brawn offered. "But I don't see him now and I don't know when he stopped following me."

Prowl nodded. "Jazz, take Bumblebee and Hound and look for him."

Jazz nodded and waved for the yellow minibot and green jeep to follow him.

They drove back out of the valley and paused. "Can you pick up his trail, Hound?" Jazz asked the tracker quietly.

"Sure," Hound replied, his voice low and edged with concern. "Follow me." With all his sensors on high, Hound backtracked along their route for several miles without success.

Bumblebee, who had been watching the skies, suddenly stopped as a shadow passed overhead, obscuring the stars.

"Seekers," he whispered. His analysis was confirmed as the low rumble from the distant jet's engines reached their audios.

Jazz pulled up next to Bumblebee and hunkered low on his wheels, "I see him. Hound? Are you finding anything?"

Hound continued up the path the Autobots had taken previously for a few more minutes and then stopped abruptly.

"I've found something. There's energon on the ground here. It's pretty fresh, maybe an hour old."

He transformed and bent low to look at the rocky ground. He continued on up the path a ways and stopped again. He picked up a piece of metal and examined it, turning it over in his hands. There was a lot of energon on it. He sniffed it and frowned.

"Definitely Tracks," he said as he rejoined the other two 'Bots. He handed the metal to Jazz and went back to the where the energon trail left the path. He found the direction easily and, keeping low to the ground, quietly followed it.

Jazz and Bumblebee were close behind, keeping a wary optic out for the return of the seeker they'd seen. It was very dark there but they were keeping to the shadows as best they could when the seeker returned. He circled low and then disappeared behind a ridge of rock.

Hound stopped and waited for the other two to catch up. "He's close, I can smell him but there's too many other scents, too many mechs came through here after he did. I'll look some more, though."

He turned to leave when Bumblebee caught his arm. "Wait, look." He pointed towards the ridge just as the unknown seeker dropped to a landing a short distance away.

They could just make out his blue armor. "Thundercracker," Jazz said even as the seeker started muttering in his distinctive voice.

"Stupid, slaggin' Soundwave, can't find some little Autobrat…" He was quiet a moment and then started again. "Fraggin' dark, never know what's creepin' around out here…"

"How close is Tracks?" Jazz asked in a whisper.

"Really close, I think. He's lost a lot of fuel so he couldn't have gotten far anyway, but…" He stopped talking and held up a hand. Listening intently, he glared at Thundercracker. "Shut up," he mouthed silently at the cranky seeker. He turned his head back and forth still listening for a repeat of the soft sound that had caught his attention. He pointed at a rock wall in the deep shadows. Several big trees hung over it and it curved slightly down, making a shallow cave. "There," he whispered pointing.

Jazz nodded. "We need a distraction. Get Thundercracker looking in the other direction so I can get to Tracks."

Bumblebee grinned. "Remember that story Blue told?"

Hound grinned back. "Sure do." He turned his body so that his holoprojector on his shoulder was pointing away from Tracks' hiding place and activated it.

A blob of light appeared among the trees in front of Thundercracker. It seemed to coalesce into a translucent image of a seeker. Thundercracker's muttering stopped as he saw it. The 'Bots could see his optics brighten in shock.

The image became more solid, revealing a red and silver, slightly transparent mech holding his head in his arms. The head opened its mouth and a gruesome moan echoed around in the rocks.

Jazz smirked at the sight and at Bumblebee for producing such a creepy noise from his vocalizer, but as soon as Thundercracker's optics were turned toward the ghost Jazz was off, moving silently to Tracks' hiding place.

He found the damaged mech easily. He was hardly hidden at all, just pressed into the shadows and covered in mud. Jazz grinned reassuringly at the barely conscious mech and slung Tracks over his shoulders in a fireman's carry and headed for the path out of the area rather than back to Hound and Bumblebee.

Hound heard Jazz escape and nodded at Bumblebee. "A couple more of those groans should keep him busy. The image will last until we're out of here."

Bumblebee obliged with another set of moans and then they took off, scrambling over the rocks as quietly as they could before joining Jazz. Hound transformed and Jazz placed Tracks inside the jeep's cab as best he could.

Before taking off, Hound said, "One last thing."

Jazz and Bumblebee looked back at the headless seeker and guffawed as the ghost raised his head over his shoulders and threw it at Thundercracker. Thundercracker's high pitched screech echoed in the rocks and he took off into the air, vanishing into the night.


End file.
